


ride on night, one on one

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, unconventional views on sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2019-01-28 12:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12606232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: There comes a point where it’s not fanservice anymore.





	ride on night, one on one

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

There comes a point where it’s not fanservice anymore.

Even on stage, that one would shrink away from him while the others moved closer, swaying their hips and getting in his face while the fangirls shrieked and mentally pushed them the rest of the way together. Koki is no stranger to taking it one step further, getting on his knees and/or dressing up like a girl to add to their fantasies.

That was the point, after all. That was what sold, the teasing promises of a lingering attraction, snapped resolves leading to supply closet rendezvouses. Koki always wondered exactly how many supply closets these girls thought were backstage. He’s been in one before – not for _that_ purpose, obviously – and it wasn’t that sexy. He couldn’t imagine trying to get his freak on with bottles of chemicals and a dirty mop bucket surrounding him. Kame wouldn’t even go inside it, and he’s usually the main star in these stories.

Besides, Kame hasn’t been in the closet for a _long_ time, Koki thinks with a snicker. In a way, Koki admires him, if just because he’s comfortable with who he is and doesn’t really give a shit who thinks what about who he likes to lay down with.

Koki wishes it was that easy. It was, at one time, before his eyes were opened to this whole new world of options. That’s what he likes to call them – _options_. Up until a certain point in his life, he had thought that sexuality was like black and white – gay and straight. You were either one or the other. Since Koki liked girls, he always figured he was straight. Then he learned that there was this gray area of bisexuality, and that’s when the confusion set in.

For years, he just thought he was curious. He experimented with some boys (and girls who used to be boys), learned a few things, and limped away from those endeavors just as unsatisfied and confused as his sexual experiences with actual girls. The physical release was good either way, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Ko~u~ki,” Taguchi sing-songed once, giving him an older-brother look despite being younger, “it’s because you don’t _love_ those hos.”

Standing here now, in the doorway of a room that contains only one other person, Koki feels like every failed attempt he’s suffered through had led up to now, this moment. It tenses all of his muscles, courses hotly through his veins. _This is right_ , he feels on the tips of his fingers, tingling the hairs that stand up on the back of his neck. _This is where I’m supposed to be_.

That familiar face turns around to smile at him – a real smile, not a smirk or a fake idol smile. This one has always been bad at pretending, anyway. Or maybe that’s just around Koki.

It suddenly occurs to him that it was never really fanservice to begin with.

“Koki?” the other man asks, his expression sharpening into concern because it’s not often that Koki isn’t upbeat and bouncy, particularly after a performance. “Are you okay?”

Koki’s initial feeling is guilt. He feels bad because he’s worrying this guy, his best friend off-stage as well as on, all over some internal conflict of emotions that basically boils down to wanting to have sex with him. Which, in all honesty, is kind of demeaning.

Because it’s Nakamaru.

He can’t just come out and declare his feelings, because it’s Nakamaru and he’s weird about things like this. The whole time Koki has known him, which is a very long time, he’s never had a girlfriend or even admitted to liking someone. He’s not a virgin, Koki knows that much, but he’s pretty sure it was less of an emotional union and more of a fling that he didn’t have much say (or sobriety) in deciding.

In a way, it was no different than just fucking holes. Koki finds similarities between them, although he has no idea how to say it out loud.

“Want to go for a drink?” he asks instead. Alcohol always makes it easier.

But Nakamaru shakes his head. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk privately.”

The guilt worsens, because Nakamaru _cares_ and wants to take time out of his evening to listen to Koki whine about whatever is plaguing him and possibly try to make him feel better. And although this wouldn’t be the first time Koki’s gone to him about love problems, or more aptly what _could_ be love, it would certainly be the first time that it involved Nakamaru himself.

The only way Nakamaru could make him feel better, Koki fears, is by physically making him feel good.

He takes Nakamaru back to his place anyway, because Nakamaru would worry about him even more if Koki just said to forget it. He was like the group mother in that way, focused on the happiness of the other members whether they were across the room or across the ocean. He claimed it was because he didn’t have any problems of his own, but Koki suspected that the low mood of a friend _became_ his problem.

The liquid in his glass sloshes as his hand shakes; he really wishes it was scotch. He feels Nakamaru’s expectant stare from his couch, waiting patiently for whatever Koki decides to say, probably resigned to waiting as long as it takes for him to say it. They’ve been friends long enough that Koki knows Nakamaru won’t judge him, won’t run out of the room and never speak to him again even if Koki tells him _everything_ , and that thought is so comforting that Koki finally opens his mouth.

“Do you think sexuality is…” he starts, noticing the way Nakamaru twitches at the topic and unable to come up with the right word. “Do you think there’s only one way to be?”

It’s confusing and vague and Koki wants to kick himself for it. He’s usually straightforward and blunt, sometimes even to an inappropriate extent, but this just leads him to believe that he really does feel something _real_. He’s never been this fucked up about anything else.

Nakamaru’s reaction confirms his theory. He sits up straighter in the middle of the couch cushion, folds his hands in his lap, and stares straight at the table as he says, “I think it’s dependant on who you love.”

His voice is strong, like he’s giving a lecture, and for the first time Koki considers the possibility that he’s not the only one who’s been struggling with this. He lifts his eyes, meets Nakamaru’s, and it’s then he knows for _sure_ that he’s not.

“If you love someone,” Nakamaru goes on, and Koki has never had more respect for him than right now as he holds their eye lock, “things like that just fall into place.”

“How do you know if it’s love?” Koki asks. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, his hands clammy around the glass from something other than condensation. He puts it down on the coaster and sinks into his recliner, sighing heavily while Nakamaru just stares at him in what Koki hopes is deep thought.

“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Nakamaru admits, offering Koki a sympathetic look that makes his heart beat even more. “I always thought I would just _know_ , you know? I mean, we’ve been singing about it for years. Or maybe words like ‘love’ are meaningless now, because of all the time we’ve spent serenading some nonexistent girl with them.”

“That’s just it,” Koki says before he loses his nerve. “It’s not a girl this time.”

Nakamaru swallows, hard, and Koki’s no longer certain that Nakamaru can’t read him like his true feelings are written on his forehead. He can’t decide whether that would be better or worse.

“I’m not going to judge you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Nakamaru finally says, and Koki lets out a breath of air he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “I would never judge you for who you love, or even just who think you love.”

Koki plays with his fingers, his breaths coming more quickly, because this is by definition the perfect time and he doesn’t want to miss it or fuck it up. _All right, Yuichi, time to prove you’re a man of your word_ , is his last thought before he jumps.

“Even if it’s you?”

He can’t look at him, feeling like more of a coward than ever before even if he just did something incredibly brave. It’s not the end of the world if he gets rejected, although it’s much more serious than being denied a stage grind and it may take him a little while to bounce back from it. But it wouldn’t affect their friendship, Koki would make sure of that. Above all else, Nakamaru is important to him. Period.

His nerves feel oddly calm, his skin warmed like the heat was turned on, and Koki chances a glance to find Nakamaru’s eyes dark, his face relaxed and looking for all the world like his own anxieties had been washed away by Koki’s confession.

“Yuichi?” he tries. Maybe this is what it looks like when someone is in emotional shock. “Say something, Yuu.”

“I…” Nakamaru starts, and Koki bites his tongue in an effort to wait. No matter how long it takes, he wants to hear what Nakamaru has to say. “I understand how you feel.”

“You do?” Koki asks hopefully, grateful for the prospect of not being alone in this mess of uncertainty even if it’s not quite how he imagined it. “Who do you love?”

Nakamaru actually laughs, the sharp cut into the heavy atmosphere making it completely deflate, leaving Koki feeling much more at ease although he has no idea what’s so funny. Nakamaru shakes his head, bringing his fingers to his temples like they hurt, and when he looks up at Koki again, there’s a noticeable blush on his cheeks.

He’s never been more attractive than this moment, fully clothed in a dark argyle sweater and khaki pants with his hair combed down like every other man in Japan. His whole attention is on Koki and Koki cherishes it as he prepares to hear about the other man who earns Nakamaru’s affections, trying not to be too jealous. Whatever makes Nakamaru happy, Koki should support.

“I _said_ ,” Nakamaru emphasizes, and this time he words it differently, “I share your feelings.”

Koki physically notices his own tongue darting out to lick his lips, suddenly dry. Nakamaru comes into focus, beautiful as ever, but Koki stares like he’s never seen him before, like he’ll never see him again. His eyes get wider as Nakamaru stands up, and his first thought is that they’ve managed to switch personalities as Koki starts to tremble at Nakamaru’s close proximity.

“I should be offended that you thought it was someone else,” Nakamaru says in a low voice, almost a growl as he leans down to place both hands on the armrests of Koki’s recliner. He’s face to face with Koki but a half a meter apart, and everything inside Koki is screaming for him to grab Nakamaru’s sweater and close the distance that’s way too big.

But his fist is barely in the air when Nakamaru beats him to it, grabbing Koki’s face with both hands and brushing their lips together. It’s not forceful by any means, more light and tentative, and Koki’s very aware of how much courage that took. His first instinct is to assure Nakamaru that it’s more than okay and this is really what he wants, completing his fist’s journey to Nakamaru’s sweater and hopefully conveying this without words.

It works a little too well, pulling Nakamaru entirely into his lap, and Koki kisses him harder as Nakamaru straddles his thighs and presses flush against him. It would be awkward if not for the emotions rising between them, what Koki imagines to be two thick clouds of colored smoke coiling together as they kiss and touch without restriction. Koki’s hands drop to Nakamaru’s ass and it’s natural how they rock together, both growing hard as they grind like they would never do on stage.

“Yuu,” Koki mumbles into their kiss, despite his body protesting the interruption. “Are you sure you want to do this?” _With me_.

He gets even hotter when he focuses on Nakamaru, already breathless and even more flushed with kiss-swollen lips that glisten with their efforts. “Of course it’s you,” is all he says, wrapping his arms around Koki’s neck and resting his nose against an equally as warm cheek. “It’s always been you.”

Suddenly it all makes sense – the reason why Nakamaru always shied away from Koki’s on-camera advances and kept his distance despite being each other’s closest friends in the group. It wouldn’t have been just casual fanservice between them, not with the force of Nakamaru’s held-back emotions that are now being unleashed on Koki. And Koki understands it as he melts into their embrace, which is something private between the two of them.

Nakamaru’s first moan against Koki’s lips has him wanting to hear it again and again, just a small, high-pitched sound as he rubs against Koki the right way. It’s a tiny plea for more and Koki doesn’t want to deny him, although he’s unsure at how far to go even if Nakamaru’s in his lap and responding favorably to every touch.

“Yuu,” Koki whispers, surprising himself with how husky his voice is. “What do you want?”

“I want _you_ ,” Nakamaru answers instantly, almost a whine as he reaches down to pull off Koki’s shirt like it’s doing him a great disservice. “And I know you want me, too. Let’s just do it now and think about it later, okay?”

Koki’s mind is a little blown at Nakamaru in the heat of passion, how in-charge and dominating he is despite being the one with his legs spread. They stay that way even after the khakis hit the floor, nothing but smooth skin in his hands as they dip even lower and explore the area where Koki really wants to be.

“Koki, please,” Nakamaru gasps into his mouth, his lower half trembling at the first contact of Koki’s fingertip to his rim. “I’ve already waited so long – don’t make me wait any more.”

A soft hand wraps around Koki’s cock and all of Koki’s inhibitions disappear, leaving him focused on nothing more than being _inside_ him as soon as possible. He keeps a packet of lube in his wallet along with traditional emergency condom, both of which seem to weigh in his hand as he digs them out of his jeans that have fallen to his knees.

It’s Nakamaru who takes the items from his palm, tearing open the condom packet and rolling it on Koki while Koki just sits still in awe. Then Nakamaru grabs his hand and squeezes the substance on his fingers, letting the excess dribble onto his cock to rub in with excruciatingly slow strokes.

His fingers find their way inside Nakamaru and it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before, Nakamaru’s body protesting his entrance but pushing back like he likes it. Koki stretches him carefully, moving his fingers around and testing different combinations until Nakamaru jerks on top of him, a belated moan tingling Koki’s tongue and making him push against that spot again.

“Koki,” Nakamaru says again, and Koki thinks he could die happy right now hearing his name in that tone from this voice. “Please do it now.”

“Are you ready?” Koki asks, frowning at how tight Nakamaru still is, even after his careful preparation. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I was ready before you were,” Nakamaru replies, reaching back to yank Koki’s hand by the wrist.

Koki’s not too sure they’re both talking about the same thing, but it doesn’t matter when Nakamaru scoots up and sits down right on his length. It goes in slowly, Koki’s eyes widening as he watches it disappear inside Nakamaru who arches his back and breathes in sharply. Then Nakamaru looks down at Koki and his eyes are as dark as ever, clouded with arousal and all of the other indescribable emotions Koki’s emulating as he feels Nakamaru hot and tight around him.

When Nakamaru starts to move, Koki’s mind shuts down. He grips onto both of Nakamaru’s hips, which rock without his guidance as he’s just along for the ride. Nakamaru makes those noises again and Koki can’t stop himself from pushing up, thrusting deeper and groaning when Nakamaru gets louder.

The hands on his shoulders tighten and shake with Nakamaru’s bouncing that they both contribute to, going faster as it becomes easier and hotter. Koki feels Nakamaru’s cock bump his chest, the tip leaving behind a conjured dab of precome that chills in the night air, and Koki doesn’t think twice before detaching one of his hands from Nakamaru’s hip and squeezing it.

“Oh, god,” Nakamaru hisses, his breath becoming more audible as he leans back enough for Koki to get a better grip. This changes the angle, which Koki feels Nakamaru’s body approve of even before he cries out for more.

Koki fists Nakamaru’s cock as fast as he can, squeezing the tip and forcing his eyes open just in time to see Nakamaru come, his mouth falling open with a moan and his features distorted in orgasm as hot semen spills over Koki’s fingers. It makes him thrust up harder, Nakamaru now bouncing by Koki’s own force as Koki fights to push through the resistance of Nakamaru’s body until his own release demands its presence.

He feels boneless as he comes down, very aware of the weight on top of him although it’s not uncomfortable in the least. He wishes they were in his bed, with a magic wand to clean the mess so they can just curl up together, laying in each other’s arms and enjoying the aftershocks together. But it’s not that easy, and the best Koki can do is reach for some tissues and tie off the end of his condom, making use of the recliner’s lounge function and urging Nakamaru’s legs to stretch out alongside his.

“Is it clearer now?” Nakamaru asks as he curls up against him. His body heat is enough that Koki doesn’t even think about wanting a blanket.

Koki just nods, relaxing both physically and emotionally as everything finally makes sense. All he had to do was go back to the basics, push through and make a start.


End file.
